


Napping Together

by KnightDawn



Series: Blood of the Covenant [8]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fatherhood, M/M, Post-Dragon Age: Origins, Zevran POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightDawn/pseuds/KnightDawn
Summary: Zevran had a habit of stumbling into strange situations - not always entirely unpleasant ones, of course, but they did not usually end without a fair amount of blood and death. He was, after all, an assassin.This time was no different, not really. Despite having washed up at the first opportunity, he and Dirk still had that far-too-familiar scent all over them - and Dirk’s hair was still slightly matted where he hadn’t gotten all of the blood out. Zevran resisted an urge to tisk and fret about it - mostly because he didn’t want to wake up his lover, their mabari, or the young girl they’d just rescued from a group of slavers.(Written for the 14 Days of Dragon Age Lovers - Day 4: Napping Together)
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Male Tabris, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden
Series: Blood of the Covenant [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947613
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Napping Together

Zevran had a habit of stumbling into strange situations - not always entirely unpleasant ones, of course, but they did not usually end without a fair amount of blood and death. He was, after all, an assassin.

This time was no different, not really. Despite having washed up at the first opportunity, he and Dirk still had that far-too-familiar scent all over them - and Dirk’s hair was still slightly matted where he hadn’t gotten all of the blood out. Zevran resisted an urge to tisk and fret about it - mostly because he didn’t want to wake up his lover, their mabari, or the young girl they’d just rescued from a group of slavers.

 _Minna._ That was the name she’d given them, when they’d found her standing over the bodies of two full-grown men, the thin dagger in her hands dripping blood. 

Zevran was taken aback by how much she resembled his dear warden, even then. She had the same intense look to her eyes, and clearly she was resourceful and quick, despite her age. She couldn’t be more than nine or ten… but Zevran knew from experience that a child, especially an elven one, could escape notice long enough to catch someone off guard.

He also saw himself in her wild eyes - equal parts enraged and _terrified._ He must have looked a lot like her, when he’d just made his first kill.

Dirk had paused the relentless attack to go up to her and kneel down, his voice soft but with a sharp edge as he spoke to her, asking her if she’d been hurt in _any_ way. She shook her head and wiped her cheek, leaving a streak of blood across it. “No, I’m fine. They… they killed my _friend,_ though. So I… I made them _pay._ ”

“Well, you can leave the rest of it to us… alright? Get behind me.”

He let her keep the dagger, though, Zevran noticed. She probably wouldn’t have wanted to part with it, anyway, until all of the slavers here were dead and the rest of the elves they had locked up were free. Dirk was still looking for people that had been taken from Denerim during the Blight, but they weren’t leaving _anyone_ behind.

They didn’t ask any questions right away. Getting away was more important, first. After they guided this group to their escape, though, someone recognized Dirk and hugged him, sobbing, for a few minutes - confirming that he was, in fact, from the same alienage.

“Mama was from Ferelden,” Minna told Zevran, while they watched that exchange. “I think my Papa was, too, but… I never got to meet him.”

Ah, a sadly familiar tale. Zevran held his tongue, though, as he turned to study Minna a bit more closely. She had the same dark red hair as Dirk, but her skin was a bit lighter - more of a tawny-tan than Dirk’s deep, cool brown. Her nose had a similar curve, though, and the way she raised her eyebrows…

It really was uncanny, how much they looked alike. If Zevran did not know better, he might have guessed Dirk was, in fact, her father - but he knew the warden had never been with a woman in his life, so that was impossible. A cousin, though, perhaps.

Dirk had noticed, too. As they looked for Isabela’s ship, he was quick to insist Minna stay close to them. “I don’t want her getting hurt - not that I doubt her ability to protect herself after what we saw, of course. But she shouldn’t have to.”

“I couldn’t agree more, my dear warden.”

And so, as their ship left port… Zevran settled in beside Dirk, Barkspawn, and Minna to get some much-needed rest, not caring that to an outsider-looking-in they could easily be mistaken for a _family._

* * *

A few days later, when they stopped to pick up supplies, Zevran found himself eyeing a display of Antivan clothes in the market.

There was a simple red dress cut in a style that was made to dance in, and Zevran found himself suddenly remembering a festival they held back home where all the young girls wore dresses very similar to this one. Their fathers would dance with them, sweeping them up in their arms as they laughed, hair trailing behind them…

He was jolted back to the present when he realized he’d been imagining the father-and-child as himself and Minna. How odd.

Perhaps it was because she was so similar to a younger version of himself. It had taken him a long time to realize he had deserved better… and while there was nothing that could change his own history, the future could be shaped differently.

Dirk was letting Barkspawn run around the docks when Zevran came back from the supply run. Of course, the mabari ran to greet him in excitement as soon as he was within range. Zevran had to set the bags down so they wouldn’t be crushed, and also so he could properly pet and hug her.

“Ah, yes - a ship is no place for you. I’m sorry. Just a few days more, my friend. We should be back in Ferelden soon, and you can run about as much as you please.”

Dirk, ever observant, was grinning as he approached - his eyebrows arched in a slightly quizzical manner. “You seem oddly smug, Zev. What’s in the bag?”

“A cat,” Zevran joked, laughing at the way Barkspawn froze for a moment and then started sniffing at the bags. “A _metaphorical_ cat. Don’t judge me too harshly, my dear. It’s - ”

“A dress?” Dirk’s expression now was quite priceless, all stunned and slightly embarrassed. Barkspawn had tipped over the bag he’d buried the present in, causing it to spill out on the wharf, and… 

Oh. Dirk probably thought…

“It’s not for you!” Zevran quickly clarified, certain that his face was quite uncharacteristically ruddy at the moment. “It’s… for _her,_ actually.”

Minna had come up behind Dirk, now barefoot and in the boy’s clothes she’d been wearing since the first day aboard the ship. She approached silently, the boards barely creaking beneath her slight weight, until she was right beside the assassin. Zevran dusted off the dress and held it out to her.

Her big brown eyes were all wide in surprise. She blinked once, then took it. “This… this is so… nice. Is it really for me?” 

Zevran found himself at a loss for words, so he simply nodded. Then, and only then, did Minna react as he had expected she would - making a little happy noise as she rushed in to hug him tight.

That night, she wore it while Zevran began to teach her the steps to a dance he hadn’t even realized he remembered so well while Dirk watched them - a fond, nostalgic smile on his face.

* * *

BONUS:

I also drew this art of Zevran and Dirk a few moments after meeting Minna!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm absolutely going to do more with Zevran, Dirk, and Minna in the future. I love them and their dynamic too much to not write more for it! Also I have thoughts on Minna's parentage but that'll come up later, I want to keep this as fluffy as possible.


End file.
